Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Violence against Women, pt. II (Survivors)

¡Hola! Everybody,
Whoa! How is everybody doing? I’ve been blown away by yesterday’s comments. It just never ceases to amaze me, though I have yet to meet a woman who doesn’t have some form of abuse in her past.

Not one.

I want to thank all the women who came to my blog yesterday and shared what I know are very personal and painful experiences. I especially want to thank those that were brave enough to share their experiences regarding Bryson and in that way serving as a warning to other women. I appreciate the courage that took and I also know he and his flunkies are trying to attack you. Please know that I got your back and that I will continue to apply the heat on this punk.

Bryson! Wassup, bro?!! Cat’s gotcha tongue? C’mon, big fella: I’m giving you a chance to defend yourself. For those that don’t already know, I’ve exposed William Bryson for the coward that he is. He’s a convicted woman beater and he continues to prey on women on the internet. Most recently, he was trying to hit on a teenager on Myspace. I know this because the young lady Bryson has targeted was a friend’s relative. In addition, several women have come out publicly (several more privately) citing Bryson’s predatory tactics of intimidation, lying, physical threats, and plain old terrorizing women.

Bryson is a coward of the worst degree and he’s no man, AFAIC. If you have him on your friends’ list, be careful. If you don’t believe me, read yesterday’s blog and especially the comments section. There you will see for yourself the kind of creep he is.

* * *

Violence against Women, pt. II (Survivors)
“To be a survivor–first you must bleed. You bleed all that was inside of you: the pain, the memories, the fear, the wounds fusing together... You bleed not once but several times. And when you are empty, you either fade into a shadow or find the strength and courage to live. When you stand up again, you are for a time, hollow–empty, like a bottle of beer lying on the street, cracked and reeking of its bitter contents. Then you fill yourself up with the new, your recreate yourself–you reform. You don’t have the same heart or mind. The way you see the world is forever changed.”
-- Comment by a survivor written in “The Last Straw” blog

People who fail to empathize with the issue of domestic violence often ask why an individual would stay in an abusive relationship. Most people like to apply simplistic “solutions” or rationales for complicated issues because it helps them make sense of a world gone slightly mad. I’m not an “expert” on domestic violence, though I have worked with women and batterers in the past. In fact, the first group I ever ran was a group of male batterers. And obviously I am a man. Those are biases and I offer this series fully conscious of my place in society as a man and also as a survivor of a childhood traumatized by domestic violence.

as I stated above, I posted on one particular predator, but I haven’t finished exploring that avenue just yet. In coming blogs I will offer what I hope will be helpful for those looking to avoid men like Bryson: what to look for and how to cope with such people. In addition, I will be offering resources for those interested. Please know that if you’re reading this and you’re being hurt, that you’re not alone. It’s important that you know this.

today, I’m simply offering a poem that I used to hand out to my groups. It’s a powerful statement.

Missoula Rape Poem
-- by Marge Piercy

There is no difference between being raped
and being pushed down a flight of cement steps
except that the wounds also bleed inside.

There is no difference between being raped
and being run over by a truck
except that afterwards men ask you if you
enjoyed it.

There is no difference between being raped
and losing a hand in a mowing machine
except the doctors don't want to get involved,
the police wear a knowing smirk,
and in small towns you become a veteran whore.

There is no difference between being raped
and being bitten by a rattlesnake
except that people ask if your skirt was short
and why you were out anyway.

There is no difference between being raped
and going head first through a windshield
except that afterwards you are not afraid of cars
but of half the human race.

Fear of rape is a cold wind blowing all of the time
on a woman's hunched back
Never to stroll alone a sand road
through pine woods;
Never to climb a trail across a bald
without that aluminum in the mouth
when I see a man climbing towards me.

Never to open the door to a knock
without that razor just grazing the throat.
The fear of the dark side of the hedges,
the back seat of the car,
the empty house rattling keys like a snake's warning.
The fear of the smiling man
in whose pocket is a knife.
The fear of the serious man
in whose fist is locked hatred.


The Last Straw: a blog offering “Support, Motivation, Tips and Warning Signs of Domestic Violence” It also offers free ebooks for readers: self help, depression, overcoming fear and more. Also an ebook for helping children mourn loss.



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